Atonement: The Hunter Mercenary Series (Book One)

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Atonement: The Hunter Mercenary Series (Book One) Page 12

by Morgan Kelley


  “How old are you, Zayn?” he asked.

  “Thirty-four.”

  “I’m a decade older. I can’t listen to my heart because I froze it out in anger and hate. If yours is telling you she’s the one, don’t end up like me. You don’t want this to be the last half of your life. We’ve been soldiers. It doesn’t have a happy ending for us—especially when you’ve crossed the line into this mess.”

  He understood.

  “I have a question, and I don’t mean to stop talking about you never having sex, but,” Rogue asked. “It’s about this job we’re trying to do.”

  “Yeah?” they said together.

  “How did he know where she was? I mean the guy who tried to grab her in that bedroom. We didn’t tell anyone where we were.”

  That was a very good question.

  One they didn’t have an answer to as of yet.

  “We let her call her father,” Dakota offered. “He was supposed to be alone. Maybe he said something to someone.”

  “Yeah, but we didn’t tell anyone we’re here—including him. From the outside, this looks like a regular ritzy home. It’s hidden in the city in plain sight. While he knew she was back, she didn’t even know where we were going to hide out.”

  He had a point.

  “We saw that woman who offered up the accomplice’s name,” Dakota offered.

  “You saw her, not me,” Rogue said.

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t tell her anything.”

  “Even when you were having sex with her?” Zayn asked, pointing at his phone. “You didn’t mention it in the heat of the moment.”

  “There was no heat of the moment. You left and I took her for coffee to talk. I wouldn’t do that to Sarah. I couldn’t have sex with her because she was a walking disease. I was NOT into Charlotte Shaw once my upper brain kicked in.”

  “WHAT?” Rogue said.

  “You heard me.”

  “Charlotte Shaw?” he asked.

  “Yeah, she’s one hell of a slut.”

  Before he knew what was happening, Rogue was up and out of his seat. He sucker punched Dakota so hard, the chair he was sitting in flipped backward, and he slid into the wall.

  And then he snapped.

  Chapter Seven

  T he whole thing caught him off guard. When Zayn pulled Rogue off Dakota, the man was totally shocked by the other man’s reaction to what he said. He was also bleeding from his nose—onto his white shirt.

  “Really? What the hell?” he asked. “Did you just try to knock my teeth in over some woman who wanted in my goddamn pants?”

  “Charlotte Shaw!” Rogue stated. “What the fuck?” he blurted, trying to get back over the mountain of an Indian between him and Dakota.

  “Yeah, she’s his informant with the connections. Are you going to sucker punch him next?”

  Rogue, normally the nonviolent one, was a raging mess.

  “I guess you know her too. I shouldn’t be surprised,” Zayn stated. “She clearly gets around.”

  Now Rogue was focused on him. “What are you saying?” he asked. “Are you calling her a slut too?”

  He shoved the man back onto the couch and put his behemoth booted foot on his chest.

  “Calm down or I will make you calm down. I don’t know her to call her a slut, bro, but I am saying that in our line of work, she gets around. Charlotte knows EVERYTHING, and she’s bragged about earning it the old-fashioned way. It’s not by baking cookies.”

  He calmed down.

  Dakota picked up his chair and rubbed his face. “I’m going to guess that’s the girl you walked away from?” he stated.

  “Yes, only, she wasn’t involved in any of this. She was innocent at the time four years ago. She was sweet. She was too good for me.”

  “Well, here’s a newsflash, Rogue, she’s not innocent and sweet anymore. She’s got a giant snake tattooed around her body. She’s dealing with some bad men.”

  He began cursing in his Native tongue.

  Zayn let him up. “I’m sorry.”

  “How do you know she’s got a snake tattooed on her body if you didn’t have sex with her?” he asked.

  He told him everything.

  Rogue dropped his head back and sighed. “I ruined her life. She wasn’t like that before me. She was a different person.”

  “People change,” Dakota said.

  Rogue opened his eyes. “I’m sorry I hit you. I heard sex, her name, and slut…”

  “Well, for the record, she chose her payment, stripped down, and tried to blow me. I was the one who stopped her. If she’s ready to climb me, chances are that ‘sweet train’ pulled out of the station a while back.”

  “Yeah, she’s changed.”

  “This is New Orleans, bro, you know how it is here. It’s survival of the fittest.”

  Yeah, he’d left her alone and to fight for herself, and she’d gone to the dark side where he’d lived.

  “Maybe, since you technically are the same kind of ‘bad’, now you should…”

  “NO!” Rogue stated. He wasn’t going back.

  That pretty much said everything they needed to hear.

  Before either could say anything, they heard someone coming down the stairs. Since there was only one other person in the house, that meant it was Stella.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt. Can I have some tea? I’m having a really rough time relaxing. Just point me to the kitchen. I can make my own.”

  Zayn headed her way.

  “I’ll take you in there.”

  When the man was gone, Dakota glanced over at Rogue. “We fucked up our lives, but he has a chance. Want to do a little match making?” he whispered.

  Rogue lifted a brow. “Like what?”

  “Now that someone knows where she is…until we find them, Stella needs a full-time babysitter. He’ll try to get out of it. I say we make him do it and see what happens.”

  “You like playing matchmaker?”

  “The dude is thirty-four, and he hasn’t boned a single babe. He needs her. This is the bro code at its finest.”

  “We’re strangers.”

  “Are we? I have a feeling that Marcus, Ethan, and Elizabeth knew exactly what they were doing. Blackhawk isn’t the deputy director because he likes pricey suits. He’s the boss for a reason.”

  They heard him coming.

  “Deal. I’m in, and I’m sorry about your face.”

  “Don’t stress it. I likely will do something that will make me deserve it. Don’t punch me for it.”

  Rogue laughed.

  The man they’d been stuck with wasn’t nearly as straight as an arrow as they thought.

  He was pretty decent.

  For an ex-Fed.

  “Agreed.”

  When Zayn came back in, he had his big hand on the smaller woman’s back, and he was carrying a teacup in the other for her.

  Yeah, it was clear the man was crazy about her.

  She took a seat on the couch. “What are we doing tomorrow?” she asked.

  They all stared at her.

  “What?”

  “You’re not doing anything. You’re under watch twenty-four-seven by Zayn. Someone found you here, so…”

  She stopped him.

  “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Mr…”

  “Dakota Rakin.”

  “Mr. Rakin, I saw him. I also saw the people who were at that shithole where they kept me. If I want my sister and stepmother back, I have to do something. I can identify them. They came after me because they know that.”

  He let her talk.

  “And now my father can’t pay more money for me. They are going to bleed him dry and then kill Maia and Mercedes. They are going to suffer. Let me help.”

  She had a point.

  She pointed at the other man. “We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Stella Harrington. Thank you for whatever you did to help find me. I appreciate it.”

  “I’m Rogue Ravenscroft.”

  “The dog is yours
,” she said. “Odin is a sweet wolf. You’re lucky to have him.”

  He didn’t correct her.

  Why?

  Rogue was a sucker for sweet girls. He’d had one, Dakota had one, and now Zayn was on the cusp of having one.

  Shit!

  He wished he could turn back time, and save Charlotte from himself—not end up with her, just erase his tainting of her.

  “Thank you.”

  For her, he bit the bullet.

  “Odin! Come!”

  The dog trotted in.

  Both Zayn and Dakota tried not to laugh.

  “SHUT UP.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” Rogue said. “My mother bought me him five years ago. He’s a kugsha. They are Native American bred dogs to look like wolves. He’s good at protecting.”

  Yeah, they could see that. The dog was licking her leg.

  “He either likes me or he’s tasting me for a snack,” she said, scratching him behind his ear.

  Odin rolled to his back.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself,” Rogue said.

  Odin howled.

  “Traitor. I’m getting a new partner. You were just neutered by another woman.”

  The dog licked her foot.

  She smiled at him as she sipped her tea.

  “He’s not trying to eat her, right? I liked him up to a minute ago,” Zayn stated.

  She laughed. “He’s giving kisses.”

  It was hard not to notice that Zayn was hovering over her.

  “She’s right,” Rogue said.

  “Tomorrow, what’s your plan?” she asked again.

  “We might as well take you to your father,” Dakota admitted. “If someone knows you’re out, they won’t be surprised to see you.”

  “I’d like that. I can get some clothes. I’m going to assume I have to stay here?”

  This was where Dakota lied his ass off.

  “It would be easier to protect you. If they are going to come at you, here is much harder. We’re in the middle of the city. Your father’s home is not.”

  “I’m okay with that. I want to help. Just tell me what to do.”

  “I hope your memory is good,” Dakota stated.

  “I have a photographic memory. I remember everything. I can describe the man who was in the room, right down to the stitching on his jeans.”

  So, she did just that. Ten minutes later, she’d replayed everything from the minute she was taken until the time she was saved by Zayn.

  “Well, that makes you an asset. It looks like you’re in, Miss Harrington. I hope you don’t mind helping us.”

  She didn’t.

  “We should have gotten you some clothes,” Rogue stated.

  She stood and handed Zayn her teacup.

  “Can you stand, Mr. Ravenscroft?”

  He did, unsure what she was up to. He hoped she wasn’t going to punch him.

  There was a lot of that going around tonight.

  She padded toward him barefoot and reached for his belt. He froze and Zayn actually moved forward.

  Dakota gave him a look.

  When she had his belt unbuckled, she wrapped it around her waist twice and cinched it.

  “Voila. I have a dress. I’m good. You’ll find I’m not as high maintenance as one might think. Medical school beat that out of me.”

  Rogue laughed—mostly at the look on Zayn’s face. The man had it so bad he was about to stroke out.

  “You’re resourceful. That will be handy.”

  She was glad.

  After this, she wanted to be able to do some good. To her, she was finished with medical school.

  That boat had sailed.

  “Since I am medically trained, I can be useful. All I needed to do was my final rotation. So, if we need that skill, I can help.”

  Dakota smiled at her. “You can help but you should get some sleep. It’s almost midnight.”

  She took her tea and then stopped. She went over to Dakota and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. Zayn mentioned you’re not doing this for money. That you’d search for me and my family…I hope you have nothing but good karma for it. I hope you find whatever it is you’re hunting.”

  He did too.

  Next, she went to Rogue and kissed him on the cheek too. “Thank you for the use of your belt. I hope you find what you’re searching for too. You’re all very decent and kind men.”

  Holy shit!

  Did she know how to wrap three men around her finger? They stared at her.

  “Uh, you can have the belt.”

  “Thank you.”

  She headed for the stairs.

  “I’ll be up, Stella. I’m on the first round of watching tonight. I’ll make sure you’re safe,” Zayn offered.

  When she was gone, both men pointed at him.

  “If you break her heart, you’re an asshole. She’s smart, she’s beautiful, and she’s sweet,” stated Rogue.

  “Run toward her—not away,” Dakota suggested.

  Zayn ignored them both as he headed toward the stairs. What did those two jokers know?

  They had one thing in common.

  They were all a hot mess.

  Upstairs, he found Stella standing in front of the one mirror on the antique dresser.

  “I think I have a rat’s nest going on,” she said, touching the mess of her hair. “How do you keep yours from tangling?” she asked.

  “Lots and lots of brushing, and I braid it at night before I go to bed,” he admitted.

  “You wouldn’t happen to have a brush to help a girl out, would you?” she asked, trying to get a clump out of her hair. “It dried worse than it was wet.”

  He went to his bag sitting on the floor.

  “I can pick a different room if you are staying here,” she offered.

  “I’m good,” he stated, pulling a brush out. “Turn around. I’ll help you,” he offered, starting to work on her hair. Gently, he worked the brush through the black strands. When he was done, he handed it to her so he could make one long braid down her back.

  “Thank you,” she offered. “Want me to do your hair?” she asked, turning around.

  He’d do anything to have her hands on him—including this.

  Because of his height, he sat on the bed and she crawled up behind him.

  “Have you always wanted to be a doctor?” he asked, as she began brushing his hair.

  It felt incredible.

  In fact, Zayn never wanted it to end.

  “Yeah, I think so. Well, actually, I was never really given a choice. My parents—my real mom died—and my stepmom wanted me to be a doctor. I wasn’t really hers, but she set high standards for me too.”

  “My parents asked me not to kill anyone. I broke that rule,” he said, trying to tease. “A lot.”

  The truest things were said in jest.

  “So, soldier and mercenary,” she offered. “What’s it like?”

  “Which one?” he asked. “The one where I get shot at or the one where I shoot at people for money?”

  Her hand stopped.

  “Are you angry?” she asked. “I didn’t mean to pry. I was just trying…”

  “To what?” he asked.

  “To get to know you. I’m sorry.”

  He sighed. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m edgy. I killed two people today. That’s never easy.”

  “I suppose not. When it becomes easy, then you’ve got a problem.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be a serial killer. Thanks.”

  She dropped the brush. “Why are you trying to put yourself down?” she asked. “Why are you so negative?”

  “I’m being honest. I am who I am.”

  “You’re hard on yourself.”

  He didn’t speak. Instead, he stared at her in the mirror. What could he say to her? He was hard on himself. He’d made bad choices to survive, but that was his path. This is why he couldn’t tangle her into his life.

  She was good.

 
Decent.

  Pure.

  “I should get some sleep. I’m sorry to have bothered you and kept you up. Goodnight, Mr…”

  “Thundercloud. My name is Zayn Thundercloud.”

  “It’s a suitable name.”

  He turned to look at her. “Why do you say that?” he asked.

  “You’re tumultuous like a storm. There’s lots of clouds and violence.”

  “That’s me in a nut shell.”

  “Some people like storms, Zayn. Maybe you don’t, but I think they are magical, special, and amazing. They don’t happen all the time. The conditions have to be just right.”

  With that, she climbed into the bed and closed her eyes. He watched her the whole time. She had that ability to stir him up, screw with his whole angry personality, and make him wish she was his.

  “Sweet dreams, Zayn Thundercloud. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  With that, she stopped the battle with him.

  Her face went slack.

  She slowed her breathing.

  And she was at peace.

  Only, he wasn’t.

  Zayn was anything but, and the storm was raging in him.

  As he stood there, watching her, he decided it wouldn’t hurt if he rested beside her. He might as well be comfortable.

  So, he kicked off his boots, unholstered the gun he’d had tucked into his pants, and cautiously climbed into the bed.

  As soon as he did, she moved toward him to nestle beside his much bigger body.

  While it should frustrate the hell out of him, it didn’t. It gave him peace.

  So much so, he fell asleep.

  And left the protecting to the men downstairs.

  * * * H U N T E R * * *

  Dakota was staring at his phone for the longest time. He wanted to send something to Sarah, but he didn’t know what.

  How did you tell the woman you love that your self-imposed exile from her looked to have no end in sight? How did you tell her that you felt like you wouldn’t be coming home alive?

  Did you?

  Would that make it better or worse?

  He felt like an asshole.

  Pulling up his text messages, he began typing.

  Then he erased it.

  There was nothing more frustrating in his life than trying to explain his feelings.

 

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